


Aftermath

by rainshaded



Category: The Worst Witch - All Media Types, The Worst Witch Live (theatre)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, I have wanted to write this fic for a year, more context available in the notes for those unfamiliar with the play, the timing turns out perfect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:29:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23537650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainshaded/pseuds/rainshaded
Summary: After the events of The Worst Witch Live, Ada and Hecate return home.
Relationships: Ada Cackle/Hecate Hardbroom
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set after the events of The Worst Witch Live, the theatre adaptation by Emma Reeves. While Ada and Hecate are similar characters to the 2017 TV versions, they are not entirely identical. It is specifically based on the West End production of summer 2019, which differed in some key aspects from the original and the touring productions. 
> 
> If you did not have the opportunity to see the play, a script book of the original production is now available to buy. Before that became available, I typed up what I could of the play (touring production) from memory and that can be read [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/10MQaZwI2KdjgzqRUA4iLNVkJjKfOF7EotFSRLvNNCvA/edit?usp=sharing). I also typed up a summary of the major changes between the touring and West End productions and that's [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1TnfBPUA8zZeFwXkaMo0FmvwY5JsWZ4DRkEq0ltqDPj0/edit?usp=sharing). If you would like to simply read and understand the fic, I have written up some context notes [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1hZjNNKREJIfScmBjENtDDDRWy9RXQx090suj7Ia_-p8/edit?usp=sharing).
> 
> I should note that there is a description of the canonical murder of a major character in this fic. This happens on-stage in the play and is undone by the end.

The knock sounded odd in Hecate’s ears. Foreign. She hesitated and would have turned from the door but it swung open promptly.

Ada stood in the doorway. Ada with half a head of dark hair but still Ada. She still wore the smart skirt and blouse, a jarring change from her usual wardrobe, but had donned one of her oldest cardigans. She hugged it round herself as she looked up at Hecate.

“I'm glad to see you. I wasn’t sure you'd come.”

Hecate ducked her head. What could she say? She hadn’t been sure either. Everything had seemed so simple in the relief, the exhilaration of everything coming right. It was only later, on the broomstick ride home, that doubts had begun to creep in: what she had done; what she could have done; what should be done now.

The silence lasted just long enough to become evident.

“How are the girls?” Ada asked.

“Surprisingly lively, most of them. Ethel’s still quiet.”

Ada nodded, hesitated. “And Maud?”

“Apparently none the worse for wear.” Hecate had paused by Maud’s door on her rounds, heard Mildred and Enid where they weren’t supposed to be. Still excited, full of plans for their fifth year and Mildred’s Head Girlship. She had passed on by. It would do Maud good to have her friends by her side tonight.

“Good. Good.”

Another silence. Hecate’s eye was drawn back to Ada’s hair, the stark contrast signifying the resolved dichotomy.

Ada caught the direction of her gaze, pushed dark hair behind her hair. “I think it’ll grow out.”

Caught, Hecate flushed.

“I’m fairly sure Agatha dyed her hair. I could always dye it grey, I suppose. Will you come in? There’s tea.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Ada’s rooms were unchanged from the morning. It seemed wrong somehow, that the events of the day had passed unremarked here, the change solely wrought in Ada herself. This morning they’d had breakfast here; Hecate had been grumbling about the play; Ada had smiled and kissed her.

_“I’ve got a good feeling about this play.”_

_“You said that about Sports Day,” Hecate said, raising an eyebrow._

There was one change. The throw normally draped over the back of the sofa instead hung over the full-length mirror, obscuring all but the last half-foot of glass. Hecate looked. Just her own feet reflected.

“I’m afraid I’ve rather gone off mirrors for the time being,” Ada said.

“Perfectly understandable.”

There was tea, Ada’s favourite set with two cups ready. There was a half-empty plate of buns and every single one had

“ _...pink icing and a cherry on top.” And Ada had kicked her foot out in that little emphatic dance she did and Hecate had known without a shadow of a doubt and the relief had almost floored her._

“Hecate?” Ada held up a cup.

Hecate took the few steps to perch on the edge of the sofa. Taking the cup Ada passed her, she forced a sip down her tight throat. It was perfect. The reassurance inherent in that—Ada knew exactly how she took her tea, still did, hadn’t asked—sent a pang through her.

Ada sat at the other end of the sofa, angling her body to face Hecate.

“Ada,” Hecate started, stopped. She took a breath, set her cup down, but the words still didn’t come. “Ada.”

“I’m here, Hecate.” Ada set her cup down on the coffee table likewise and reached out. She didn’t try to take Hecate’s hand, leaving her hand on the cushion between them. The care and caution in the gesture ached. It was all Ada. 

Hecate took the invitation. It had been her first instinct back then, in that first moment of elation, to reach for Ada’s touch and she was too greedy to turn it down, no matter how little she deserved it.

Ada squeezed her fingers gently, reassuringly. “I promise it’s still me.”

“I know. I know.”

Ada raised her other hand to her hair. “I can dye it if it bothers you...”

“No.” Hecate shook her head. “No, I... it suits you.” She managed a smile. “It always did.” Ada’s hair had been almost as dark as her own, barely greying, back when Hecate had first met her. She’d never sported pink streaks but it didn’t look out of place. This could easily be a throwback to a younger Ada, rather than a visible reminder of Agatha. Gone but not forgotten, sadly. This tentativeness between them was her doing: she’d pushed Ada to prove herself over and over; had thrown Hecate’s failings into sharp relief.

“I’m sorry, Ada.” There, that was a start.

“Whatever for?” Ada said gently.

“I should... I should have been better. I should have _done_ better. I should have seen through her, stopped her earlier...”

“How could you have?”

Hecate tried to smile to take the sting from her words. “You’re not that good an actress, Ada. I thought, you were doing so _well_ , I was so _proud_ of you, I should have _known_ —”

“Hecate,” Ada interrupted, “slights on my theatrical prowess aside”—she smiled back, reassuring Hecate she hadn’t taken offence—“which was more likely, the idea that I had improved between rehearsal and performance or the idea that one of our pupils had been sneaking off to see my exiled sister for _months_ in order to teach her the songs and the _choreography_ of the latest school play so she could play me playing her as part of her latest evil plan?”

It did sound faintly ridiculous when Ada put it like that. Hecate shrugged, unwilling to let it go just yet.

Ada sighed, her gaze turning inward. “You're right, of course. It was hard for me, trying to be her. And she was a better dancer than me, always was. I love to dance but Agatha... she really could have made something of it, done it properly. If that had been what she wanted.”

“I love the way you dance.”

“Thank you, dear.” Ada lifted her cup, smiling over the rim. It felt like a benediction, a forgiveness Hecate wasn’t sure she deserved. It would be easier to accept it, to tamp down the memories of her mistakes and rejoice that all had come right, but no. It wouldn’t be worth anything then.

“I should...” Hecate forced herself to say, picking her words carefully, “I should have been stronger.” Now the words spilled from her. “I should have been stronger. I couldn’t protect you or the girls and I’m so sorry, Ada.”

_Her magic clawed at the spells that held Ada captive in the mirror, an effort lost as Agatha sent her tumbling into darkness._

_Agatha broke free, all the power she and the girls could bring to bear not enough, and Hecate despaired._

_Maud lay limp and dead across the packing case, concrete proof of her failure sinking endlessly within her._

Ada was in front of her now, right next to her on the sofa, and lifted a hand to brush against Hecate’s cheek.

“You did all you could. I would never ask for anything more.” Her eyes were intent on Hecate’s. “Do you know why Agatha was so powerful? It was because she didn’t care. She didn’t care who she hurt and she didn’t care what happened as long as she got her way. So her magic”—Ada shuddered—“it’s like wildfire, unchecked, unchallenged, all right there under her skin. You care too much to ever be the same, Hecate. You have control.”

“I couldn’t help...”

“Ah, but you did. You helped the girls face Agatha, you presented enough of a threat to force her to attempt the merge, and you were there for me. You tried to pull her away?”

Hecate nodded, remembering the panic building in her chest, edging into her voice. _“It will destroy you both!”_ She’d lashed out with her magic in the end, trying to physically drag Agatha away from Ada’s prison, but it hadn’t been enough.

“I could feel you. That was my lifeline. I fought to reach you. And that was my advantage: Agatha had nothing to ground her. That, and she always did underestimate me. My kindness was her weakness.”

“You called for me.”

“And you answered. Thank you.”

Hecate took a shuddering breath, remembering a single figure in front of the shattered mirror, jerking and screaming as the twin souls fought for control. “Just watching that... was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.” Waiting, her hands raised defensively, for delight or despair.

“You gave me what I needed. Agatha was doomed then: she just didn’t know it. I think it rather took her by surprise.”

Hecate’s gaze fell to her lap, to Ada’s hands rubbing comforting circles on her legs. Round and round. She breathed in and out and forced herself to look up, to meet Ada’s gaze again. “Did it hurt?” Oh, she feared the answer but she had to know. 

“Yes.” Ada pressed her lips together. “But not nearly as much as it hurt her. And I... I wouldn’t change it, Hecate.” It was Ada’s gaze that fell now, her hands stilling, clutching at the fabric of Hecate’s dress. “If Agatha had escaped, who knows what more harm she could have done and we, we couldn’t have helped Maud...”

It had been only hours. It felt so much longer. Yet Hecate was sure she would remember that moment forever, the hope flaring in Ada’s face and in her voice as she realised that with Agatha’s power under her command, she could, for once, right the evil her sister had wrought.

“Oh, Hecate.” Ada was bending forwards, hands pressing into Hecate’s legs, her voice blurring with tears. “She held her down and she, she forced the air from her lungs; she _drowned_ our girl on dry land and kept doing it long after she stopped struggling, she...”

“Sssh.” Hecate pulled Ada close, letting her cry into her chest as she rubbed her back. “Sssh. Maud’s safe and well. You saved her. And our girls did a wonderful job saving each other.”

It took a few minutes for Ada’s sobs to slow and quieten. She mumbled something against Hecate.

“What was that?”

Ada pulled back a little. “They did, didn’t they? I think you took Mildred by surprise.”

“Yes, well.” Hecate hardly made a habit of hugging students but then today had hardly been a normal day. “She will encounter a fair few surprises as Head Girl: it is best to be prepared.”

“Of course.” And there it was, the lift of the eyebrows, the light in the eyes, Ada agreeing to be indulgent of Hecate’s excuses. How could she have almost lost this? How could she have lived without this?

Ada twisted, tucking her feet up and leaning against Hecate. Her head fit perfectly in the curve of shoulder and neck. There was a silence, more comfortable now, broken only by their breathing.

“Agatha... is a part of me. She always was. My worst impulses and cruelty and selfishness and she wouldn’t listen to me. I couldn’t stop her. I never wanted to hurt her but she hurt so many around her; took the road to ruin and dragged others with her. I’m glad I was able to undo what I did today. I’m glad I have the power to stop her now. ” Ada paused for a moment; Hecate stroked her cheek, tucking dark hair behind her ear. “There’s so much here, so much hate and rage and fury, but... I’m stronger than her. She never listened to me and I don’t have to listen to her. I’ll do my best not to. Magic knows we’ve made enough mistakes for two lifetimes.”

“No-one can ask for more,” Hecate murmured and twisted to kiss Ada. Her tea still sat cooling on the table but it could be reheated. She wanted this now.

“Hecate?” Ada said, some length of time later, snuggled back against her chest.

“Mmm?” Hecate realised her eyes had shut at some point. That was all right. She could listen to Ada.

“I might be really good at embroidery now.”

Hecate smiled, felt Ada shake against her chest, laughter this time. Ada was always finding the light.

“I love you, Ada.”

“I love you too, Hecate.”


End file.
